My Journey with Obele and The Storyteller..........2

Work began in earnest.Friendships were quickly established and like I had predicted one of the situations unfolded. The lines merged and disappeared altogether albeit too soon for me in particular, I spent a greater part of my first week bitching to my roomie; the super talented and so loveable Ifybrown Monye about over familiarity -the poor girl tire for me- but then as in all things about most Nigerians, I adjusted. Yes, about Nigerians, something very intriguing happened in the first week we moved into the hotel, our new Namibian friend came to the room one day to complain about dust in the rooms, said she was having allergies to the dust, and other things and was going to a spa for therapy of some sort(I used to think allergies were a foreign ailment, not for Africans although after this encounter I had to just specify not for Nigerians), I recall exchanging glances with Ify.I did that a lot in the beginning because I couldn't decipher her language, Ify had caught on to her accent faster luckily for all of us. However, in this case, the exchanged looks wasn't because I did not understand her, the contrary was the case.You see in Nigeria we have become so accustomed to hardship that we take it for granted, we don't even realize we are suffering anymore, we adjust to and ride out all forms of storms that are directed at us. Allergies ko, spa ni. When last did you see a Nigerian faint or hear about it? rather we hear about people who just slump and die. Why? because they weathered so much hardship till the body simply expired of its own accord. But I digress...truth is, we didn't know we should be having allergies or discomforts because of  the starless hotel. When we knew, we met administration who did all they could -the Nigerian situation allowing- to make us comfortable. Good directors are unexpendable . They can point an actor in the direction of that wow factor. We had a good director.Israel Eboh. This would be my first time of meeting and working with him but his fame preceded him and that of others like Mr Dance himself who was the tallest with the Longest name that I have to shorten for my own pleasure Anthony Offiong, Frank Konwea and Uche Onah..
Then I met this most humble,warm and diplomatic producer whose heart of gold can be seen on her beautiful face Bikiya Graham Douglas. So eloquent. Been in her presence you can't help but feel like you're in the presence of royalty. Reminded me of a physics lecturer I had in the university Professor Eze who made us all want to ace Physics not for ourselves alone but to make him proud because he hadn't seen it as an inconvenience to teach freshers and had never made us feel inadequate but rather was so truthful and encouraging that we just wanted to do well to justify his faith in us.

 I had some personal reservations about some of  the cast from the beginning but two people absolutely astounded and shamed my thoughts. Anthony: I came with an albatross on my shoulders about 'Veterans' and 'fine boys' and he fell under both. The first time I saw him, I thought to myself "behold the peacock" but he turned out to be everything but all I had assumed he would be.He was truly humble. He it was who had the patience to teach everyone else their dance steps even though he was not obliged to, he it was who gave and demonstrated the best workouts to help us feel our joints again after the rehearsals, humbly made and served us cocktails, had our backs when Uche wanted to have our heads for not giving him his movements back perfectly, he was never too tired to be of assistance to any one although in retrospect I wish he had been  then he won't have brought up that early morning jogging. There is a time in the morning when sleep is sweetest, he stole that part. I forgive him though. And there was the ladies teddy bear,the  amazing medicine man Princewill Emanuel........

My journey with Obele And The Storyteller ..pt 1

Every new project has its peculiar demands and blessings. This is the first thing I discovered in Portharcourt as we began our month long rehearsal of Obele and The Storyteller the drama presentation for the Opening ceremony of the UNESCO Portharcourt World Book Capital 2014.
First of was the mystery.
As of the time we left Lagos, I didn't know anything about the story, my character in the play, all I knew for a fact was that I'll "perform"in the play. My interest was piqued of course-sly people, they probably knew that would be the case-
On the day before departure, I met some of the cast members at the Lagos office. There appeared to be two polarising temperamental 'formings': there were the very crazy body biting me cannot sit in one place and definitely cannot be quiet in the right corner and the oh please i'm a diva and I only open my mouth after you pay at the left corner. Now, going by the little experience I've garnered about artists(they are the most volatile Homo sapiens I've met so far) two situations were likely to unfold from this creative ensemble, one of which would be that these two boxes will mix and the line separating them would become faint or the lines could become deeply etched and clearer resulting in two or more political parties.
Let the games begin.......

As we got to the untarred International arrivals of Portharcourt airport, while waiting for our luggage to be brought around by the human conveyor belt the mixing began in earnest. I tried to size up the director whom I thought had engineered the first communion service of plantain chips with well, nothing that we had on board and figure out those who had brought their houses along in their luggage. My new Namibian friend(who was not yet a friend as of then but whom I had forced to become a photographer at the Lagos airport-Margaret Shikuyele) was a semi culprit. I asked her if she was coming from omugwo, I don't think she understood or heard as she seemed to permanently have ear piece on. There was the other opposite too. The incredible dance choreographer Uche Onah who carried a light backpack that I couldn't help but wonder if he had just dancers tights in it. There couldn't possibly be anything else in there. How was he going to survive one month with whatever was in that tiny backpack? In retrospect now, I shake my head at myself for 'swallowing panadol for headache wey another person no even get sef' .
We got into the bus and someone asked for my Bluetooth name in order to exchange pictures, when I told him, people laughed. I didn't get the joke or was there something else in the air that was making them high? Anyway, we were all very excited . Like we used to say in National youth service camp "Morale was high"and we couldn't wait to get the show on the road...

The Nigerian conundrum. Reminiscing about the UNESCO Portharcourt World Book Capital 2014.

Fresh back from Port Harcourt UNESCO World Book Capital 2014 opening ceremony. I decided to continue in the spirit of the motto: Open a book. Open possibilities. Don't get me wrong, I love reading. Have always done so. I just discovered that in recent times, the pursuit of my cheese has made it seem like there wasn't enough time to take in the wonderful adventures of a new book. I decided to create the time. Apparently it was the right time as the moons seemingly aligned and I got not one but three of my presently most sought after books. Ah heaven. Usually, when I'm on the journey with an author I tend to forget the present, but this time has been different.
The past month has been a tumultuous time in the country: The abduction of more than 276 female final year secondary school students who went to write their final examinations by Shekarau led terrorist group Boko Haram in Chibok Borno state on the 14-15TH of April 2014. The subsequent bone chilling statements by Shekarau to turn them into sex slaves, force them into marriage and generally dehumanize them as he sees fit and the tellingly loud silence of the northern elites who came out to play to the gallery only after outsiders were interested. The crime of the victims being that they are girls and should not be in school.

This happening in the face of the great feat Nigeria just recorded by Port Harcourt being the first Sub-Saharan city to be named UNESCO World Book Capital and playing host to great writers and lovers of the written word in one space.

In 2001 Agbani Darego made history in South Africa when she became the first black African to claim the Miss World title and established Nigeria in the record books in that sphere, a great feat indeed. The following year 2002 December 7th Nigeria was about to harvest the result of that feat by hosting the beautiful world: Miss world 2002. It was sadly not to be as it was abandoned after three days of reckless carnage by angry Muslim mobs which left more than 100 people dead and countless property destroyed and of course completely obliterated the chances of Nigeria ever hosting it again in the near future.
Prior to the commencement of the 24th World Economic Forum on Africa in Abuja which was slated to hold from May 7-9, there were the bombings in Abuja. This is the first time Nigeria and indeed West Africa will be hosting this forum and indications were already in the air of how unsafe Nigeria was to host this prestigious economic affair which makes one wonder how these insurgents seem to know the government's itinerary in advance. Thankfully another feat did not go down the drain.
It's like pouring cold water on one to wake them. It feels like the harder Nigeria tries to reach for the light, the harder a particular sect keep dragging it back, smearing it with dirt, trying its utmost best to drown it in dismay and darkness. Coincidentally, the three books I got are all talking about Nigeria. It turns out that the problems plaguing her have been the same since her amalgamation: A forced marriage between two opposites who over the years have not found a common ground and therefore no root to foster love on. While one partner is wanting to grow and explore, the other does not want any form of change or association with those not of its kind. And that is what most see as the Conundrum.